Cassidy’s panic escalated. But seeing her friend’s chest rise and fall with a still-very-alive breath, her sense of purpose was renewed. Pushing away some of her fear, she held up the gun in front of her chest, just like Cruz had shown her how to do.
“Don’t come any closer,” Cassidy said.
But Stacey took a step, then another, and another.
“I said, stop! Don’t give me a reason to kill you. I’ll do it. Don’t make me do this!”
Stacey again took another step closer—
Eyes squeezed shut, Cassidy pulled the trigger, and the gun went off with a deafening explosion.
Cassidy opened her eyes, hoping Stacey was sprawled on the floor, but instead, she stood grinning at her, face smeared with JJ’s blood.
“You’re next, bitch!” Stacey yelled, then threw her head back and screamed—primal and ferocious.
Somehow, Stacey closed the distance between them with alarming speed, crashing hard into Cassidy and knocking the gun out of her grip. It tumbled across the floor, out of reach, while Cassidy stumbled onto her backside. Oddly, Stacey had paused and now stood over her, deep in conversation, with... someone unseen.
Recognizing her chance, though, Cassidy rolled to her side and kicked out at Stacey’s leg, knocking her off balance. Stacey dropped to the floor, and Cassidy struggled to her feet, rushed up to her enemy, and stomped on her face, breaking her nose with a crunch. The evil woman laughed, half-choking on her blood. Cassidy then brought her foot up to land another blow, but Stacey grabbed it and twisted hard, landing Cassidy to the floor. Both women scrambled up to face each other. Stacey growled, blood flowing from her nose and into her mouth, off her chin to the floor. She spat to the side, then took a step forward, arms outstretched, hands curled into claws, reaching for Cassidy.
Cassidy paused to catch her breath. The self-defense moves she’d learned were working, but she was running out of time. Committing to a plan, she made a dash for the Glock and, diving on the floor, barely registered the carpet burn on both elbows. She scrabbled for the gun, gripped it in both hands, and spun back around.
Again, she pulled the trigger, this time with her eyes open. The same explosion of sound rocked the room, and Stacey twisted violently to the right, looking down at her shoulder now gushing with blood. She peered back up at Cassidy, eyes taking on the even more terrifying look of a soulless evil. Cassidy prepared to fire again, a burning nausea threatening to boil over, until Stacey began to seize, eyes rolling back into her head and face draining to white. Stacey dropped to her knees before crumpling face-first to the floor.
Cassidy ran to JJ and checked his pulse, then his breathing and, determining he would live but have a massive headache when he came to. After positioning him to his side so he didn’t aspirate on his blood, she rushed over to Randi. Adrenaline-fueled superhuman strength and courage helped her to tear out the ball gag, and Randi let out a large sigh of relief.
“Get me down, get me down,” Randi begged.
“I’ll have you down in a second, try to hold on.” Cassidy yanked and dug at the restraints. Soon, the ropes started to come loose, when Randi suddenly dropped head-first to the floor—hard. A moan from JJ brought Cassidy back to him.
“Buddy, are you okay?” she said.
“My head hurts.”
“Lie still. I’m going to step outside and try to call the police and the paramedics.”
JJ started to cry. “I’m scared. I can’t move my arm.” It was swollen, clearly broken in multiple places.
“JJ, listen, I need to call for help. Stay still so you don’t hurt yourself further, okay?”
He nodded slightly, still crying.
Cassidy’s heart broke for him, but she had to get help. She took a few steps toward Stacey, pretty sure the once-shower aide was now no longer a threat, when an unexpected crash came from the darkened hallway. Deep, unfamiliar voices began shouting orders at her in a cacophony of sound. But, one order managed to come through loud and clear.
“Cassidy, put the gun down—now!”
The Glock 45 in her right hand now felt heavy, and Cassidy dropped it to the floor, shuffling away from it. An imposing figure stepped out of the shadows and into the light of the family room.
Cassidy squinted, confused at first. “Cruz?” she said, then ran toward him.
Cassidy melted against his large frame, where she began to cry, face pressed to his chest.
“Sir!” called a voice.
Cruz stiffened and pushed Cassidy hard to the right, where she fell sideways against the wall. Cruz leveled his gun straight at Stacey who’d managed to stand. She was still alive and now held the Glock. The gun, trained on Cruz.
“Put the gun down, Veronica,” Cruz said. “We can get you the help you need.”
But Stacey only screamed back at him, “No one can help us! No one will help us! No one wants to help us!”
“We can help you; help all of you. Just put down the gun.”
Tears streamed down Cassidy’s face, echoing Stacey's anguish as Stacey placed the barrel of the pistol to her own temple.
“No—no—no!” Cruz said, lunging forward.
But gunfire rocked the room for the final time, and Cassidy closed her eyes. When she reopened them, Stacey lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, blood pouring from a new hole in her head.
Cassidy slid against the wall and down to the floor, where she sat in shock and disbelief, numb to everything. But the room began to fill with people—cops surveying the scene, EMTs working on Randi and JJ. She didn’t see Cruz. Was he a cop? Was he Sanchez’s partner?
A young man squatted down in front of her. “Ma’am, are you in pain?”
She said nothing.
“Ma’am, can you hear me?” he said
Cassidy focused on him, weary. “I’m not in pain,” she whispered.
“We’ll need to take you to the hospital to get checked out. Do you have someone we can call for you?”
JJ, she thought, then replied, “No. Will he be okay?” she said, gesturing to her friend still lying on the floor.
“Don’t worry about him. He’s in good hands. Do you think you can stand?”
She nodded and, struggling to her feet, Cassidy used the young paramedic’s arm for support. They walked out of the house together, passing multiple uniformed officers on the way. Cassidy tapped one on the shoulder.
“Where’s Cruz?” she said.
“Detective Delacruz is in the room with the other victim.”
“The other victim?”
“The home owner, ma’am. Or what’s left of her.”
The EMT led her to the ambulance, and she got in with his help. There, she laid down on the gurney. Physically drained, they strapped her in, for safety. But just before they closed the doors, another gurney was wheeled past with JJ on it.
“JJ.” Cassidy said.
He looked over at her and smiled, though clearly still in pain.
“You’re gonna be fine,” she said. “I’ll come see you as soon as they let me.”
Then, the doors closed.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” the paramedic said as they started off for the hospital.
Cassidy reached up and wiped away a tear. “I don’t know why, but... I want to call my mom.”
CHAPTER 34
I
n the days that followed the marked end to Stacey’s killing spree, Cassidy took some much-needed time off, to unwind, sip drinks poolside, and get away from anyone who might bring her stress. She’d even convinced her apartment management to allow Max to be at the pool for emotional support. Granted, yes, she had to admit he lived there, but she paid the fine and the thousand dollar pet deposit. A small price to pay, really, to have her buddy by her side while she decompressed.
JJ was discharged from the hospital after getting thirty-two stitches in his scalp, having his arm casted and nose set, along with a CT scan of his head. Just the fact he’d asked Cassidy to drive him home then stop and get a diet
coke from the gas station, and had complained about being called “big guy” by the nursing staff, was clear he’d be just fine.
Much to her surprise, Cassidy found she was concerned for Randi’s well-being and had gone to visit her at the hospital. Armed with extra latex gloves and some hand sanitizer, she’d woven her way through to locate Randi on the second floor, which was fitting, since that floor was used for general admittance and psych. She’d popped her head into the room, asking, “You gonna live?” and Randi’s middle finger had reminded her that they’d never be friends, but at least Stacey hadn’t claimed another victim. Just before she left the room for good, though, Cassidy had glanced back with a smile. Randi winked in reply before turning away. Yes, Randi, too, would be just fine.
Sunshine Home Health corporate offices had offered to send Cassidy and JJ to counseling to help them sort through the extreme situations they’d endured. JJ eagerly accepted, but Cassidy would never go willingly. Instead, she clung to her denial and the illusion that she’d been unaffected, and all she needed was to take a vacation. And that’s exactly what she did.
A couple of days in, however, Cassidy started to miss the excitement. But, even more than that, she couldn’t stop thinking about Cruz. He’d started to become a regular part of her life. Now, she missed how she felt when they were together; how she picked on him, and how he didn’t mind; and what it would be like to kiss him. He knew where she lived. If he wanted to see her, he’d stop by or give her a call. After all, he’d been the one lying about his identity. Pool-man, my ass, she thought.
She’d just woken up from her third nap of the day, and it was time to hang out at the pool. At two in the afternoon, she was confident no one would be there in the middle of a workday.
“Perfect,” she said, giving Max a belly rub. “With Stacey out of the picture, I’d hate for Sasquatch to hit on me. There wouldn’t be anyone to kill him.” She started to laugh, but it died all-too quickly on her lips. “Too soon?” she asked her four-legged companion.
Max wagged his tail.
“You’re probably right.” And she bent down to kiss him on his fuzzy face. He wagged his tail harder, thumping it against the wall, and before she could stand back up, he snatched the large floppy-brimmed hat from her head and trotted off to her room. “Max, get back here!”
But Cassidy stopped short when she saw her reflection in the mirror. “Oh, who needs a disguise anyway? Life’s too short.”
Max returned, without the hat.
“Okay, boy. Let’s go and sit by the pool.”
Cassidy opened the front door... and jumped back when a folded piece of paper fell to the floor near her feet. Panic flashed through her before she could calm herself with logical thinking. Stacey was no longer a threat. Right.
Cassidy drew in a deep breath and, reaching down, picked up the paper and read it.
Meet me by the pool,
Cruz
A simple message that held all kinds of possibilities. She slammed the door closed, then ran back into her bedroom, where she reexamined her outfit: a tasteful, black two-piece with a terrycloth cover-up.
“This will not do at all,” she said. “What was I thinking? This makes me look like I shop at Lane Bryant!”
She tore off the offending clothes and found the perfect outfit to replace it: a fantastic hot pink strapless bikini worn under a silky white cover-up that added very little modesty to the ensemble. Satisfied that this would get his attention, Cassidy donned a pair of high-heeled Gucci clogs and rushed out the door, with Max trotting alongside.
“Oh, hi, Max,” Cruz said as they arrived poolside, and he gave the loving companion a scratch and a face rub. Then, he looked up at Cassidy. “Glad you made it. I saw you slam your door closed and I was beginning to wonder if you even wanted to see me.”
“Oh, that?” She waved a dismissive hand. “I was trying to keep a fly out of the apartment.”
“I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes, if you don’t mind.” Cruz motioned toward the back of the pool area. “I have some lemonade and fresh fruit, if you’d like some.”
At this, Cassidy nodded and joined him over at the table and chairs he’d reserved. “Fresh-squeezed?”
“Nah. It’s actually just Crystal Light. I’m not really good in the kitchen.”
They shared a genuine smile, then sat down together. Cassidy secured Max’s leash to the chair leg, and he settled down in the chair’s shadow, while she and Cruz enjoyed their glasses of lemonade in silence. Once emptied, she placed the glass back onto the table and tapped the rim. Cruz refilled it.
“Deliciously refreshing,” she said.
He smiled. “Thanks. You know, I have so much I want to tell you and share with you, but I can’t...not, yet.”
“And I have so many questions.”
“All right, let’s do this, then. We tell each other what we’re allowed to, and see where it leaves us. I can tell you have some concerns, not only about what happened, but also about me.”
“Clearly.”
“And they’re all valid,” he said.
“Well, first and foremost, I’d like to know when I’ll be able to pick up Lily. She’s been in police custody for a while now, and I’m sure she’s scared to death.”
“I think they have to hold her for another week, since she didn’t have her updated shots on record and they have to make sure she doesn’t have rabies. It's all normal procedure, I can assure you. I’m glad you decided to take her. She’s a really sweet girl.”
“You’ve met her?”
“Of course. I've been down to the kennel every day. She’s such a love. I know she’s missing her dad, but... she’ll love you, too, I just know it.”
“Aww... that’s so sweet of you. Well, let’s see... I also want to know who Stacey really was, and why she went by Veronica Currington when she was younger.”
“Actually, I was able to get some of that information from another source. One you might know: Ted.”
“Ted’s involved in this?”
“Kind of, in a way. He used to be a cop and worked on a case that involved Veronica. She was the victim of severe abuse, and psychiatrists at the time had diagnosed her with having multiple personality disorder. I believe they called it ‘dissociative identity disorder.’ Basically, she had some kind of psychotic break brought on by her abuse.”
“I don’t get it, though. Doesn’t there need to be a trigger or something? Like, come on, those elderly people didn’t do anything to hurt her.”
“You’re right. In her psychiatric file, the trigger was listed as, the smell of Bengay. That, and when she felt threatened, or was in a fight or flight situation, Veronica would emerge and try to kill to protect herself, as well as the others.”
“So, Stacey was a different personality she had?”
He ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “From what I’ve been told, yes. She lived mostly as this Stacey character, a sweet Southern girl. In fact, the two personalities were so opposite from one another that Stacey was right-handed while Veronica was left-handed.”
“Oh, geez.” Cassidy cringed. “I think I noticed something like that with her. I was at Stacey’s place once, and when she seemed to get upset with me, she held the pen she was using in her left hand, clutching it like a dagger.”
“Sounds like you were closer to the danger than we thought.”
“Isn’t it strange that someone like Stacey would get into the healthcare field? I mean, here she was charged with helping people recover from what ailed them and she ends up killing them.”
“The cure may kill you, I suppose,” Cruz said.
“I suppose.”
Cassidy sipped more of her lemonade in quiet contemplation, and to wet her throat. “So... Ted’s a cop, huh? Is that how you knew to show up at the house that night?”
“Actually, yes. You were in his bar, and had showed him the article, which he recognized, and even saw his own picture. I’m surprised you didn’t notice it.
He called me as soon as you’d left. He told us the neighborhood you were going to, and I found your car.” Cruz paused for a moment, fidgeting in his seat. “And I am very, very happy I was able to get there in time.”
Cassidy scrutinized his face, so full of emotion, and whispered back, “Me, too.”
“Can I ask you something?” Cruz said.
“Sure.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“What? Why would you ask me that?”
“Because, I wasn’t forthcoming with who I really was. I mean, I did tell you on more than one occasion I wasn’t the pool man, but I didn’t let you know I was the detective in charge of the case, either.”
“Oh yeah, what gives?”
“Well, at first, I was investigating you. Then I found out you lived in my apartment complex, and I figured it’d be an easy way to see if you had anything to hide. But the more I got to know you, the more I discovered you weren’t guilty of anything but stealing.”
“Stealing? Stealing what?”
“My heart.”
Cassidy reached over and grabbed his hand. “You cheese-ball! I’m not mad. I wish you could have told me sooner, but I understand you had a job to do.”
“And here I thought I’d lost my chance.”
“Your chance at what?” Although she had a pretty good idea what he meant.
“My chance at you and me, and well ... you know,” Cruz stumbled through his words. “Going out, and maybe dating.”
“I’ll tell you what...you have to woo me. Impress me. I want to be dazzled...swept off my feet and all that stuff.” Cassidy gave him a smile. “Can you handle that?”
He squirmed. “Yes...but –”
“But, what?”
“We can’t officially do that quite yet.”
“Why? Isn’t the case over with?”
“The killer’s been eliminated, yes. But the investigation itself hasn’t come to any conclusion. As soon as that happens, though, we’re free to enjoy our lives. Will that be all right?”
The Cure May Kill You: A Cassidy Hudson Mystery Page 27